


Satiated Curiosity

by jhoom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1800s America, Jimmy and Cas aren't twins, M/M, Multi, ghoul!cas, historical!AU, hunter!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 06:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12451347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoom/pseuds/jhoom
Summary: Dean’s been a Hunter all his life, but he’s never taken on a case like this.





	Satiated Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> This is my [October/November](http://rareshipcreationschallenge.tumblr.com) entry for the SPN Rare Ship Creations Challenge. The theme was "Hallowsgiving" and my prompt was "nutmeg and/or ghouls." I went with ghouls :)
> 
> And thank you to [@archofimagine](http://archofimagine.tumblr.com) for helping me with the title! I'd still be here brainstorming without you lol
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr [@jhoomwrites](http://jhoomwrites.tumblr.com) to talk about dcj

Dean gets a lead from another Hunter passing through, one that takes him to a settlement out in the Ohio Valley.

Normally he sticks to cities or areas filled with small towns. More people means more cases, and more cases means more money. He can spend a whole month in an area dealing with hauntings, vamps, and werewolves if he’s lucky. Word of mouth usually helps, too; thankful clients will tell their friends about the Hunter who saved them.

But it’s nearing summer, and cases tend to be hard to come by as the weather turns. In winter, monsters are everywhere; it’s cold and dark and people keep to themselves a lot more. It makes them easy pickings for a hungry creature lurking just out of sight…

Summer though, that’s safer all around. Long days keep the monsters at bay, making it harder for them to attack without notice. With the Hunters keeping the peace, there are few that’ll risk being caught. Good for the people Dean means to protect, but bad for business.

It’s what has Dean out all the way in the territories looking for work instead of settled somewhere comfortable back east.

Dean doesn’t mind the travel. It’s not that. Days with just his horse Impala to keep him company, well, he actually appreciates it. It’s peaceful, walking the roads, and he likes seeing new places. What irks him is that he doesn’t much care for the somewhat backwards way people do things out west.

The closer you get to the Mississippi, the more superstitious people are. They use sigils to protect their homes, but they use the _wrong_ sigils. They store salt and iron and silver, but they don’t know how to use it properly. Never mind that they’re suspicious of strangers, even Hunters, and don’t like to cooperate a whole lot. Sure, they appreciate a monster being killed as much as anyone, but they prefer to handle it themselves.

Fools.

There are times his services have been outright refused. Him, a trained Hunter with a decade’s worth of experience, and the locals think they can take on a wendigo without him. It always ends the same way, with people hurt or dead and the town begging Dean to take over.

They’re lucky Dean’s not the vindictive type. He knows plenty of Hunters who’d refuse or jack up their prices after that.

So as he heads closer and closer to some settlement so small they haven’t even named it yet, Dean wonders what he’ll encounter. A ghoul for certain. There’s no other way to account for the desecrated graves and the gnawed bones. No, Dean spends most of his trip wondering what type of welcome he’ll receive when he arrives.

“I understand you’ve made a long trip,” the man with the cold blue eyes says after shaking Dean’s hand. “We appreciate that. But your services aren’t necessary.”

So that’s how it’s going to be. Great.

“You’ve got a ghoul,” Dean says slowly, as if explaining to a child. “Maybe more than one. They’re strong and can be mighty dangerous when cornered—”

“I’m well aware,” the man snaps. “But we have no intention of hunting this ghoul, so there’s no need to worry about if the creature’s cornered.”

“Well, Mister…”

“Novak.”

“Well, Mister Novak, that’s a fine sentiment there. But ghouls are dangerous even when they’re _not_ cornered. It might only be feeding on the dead right now, but sooner or later he’s going to eat the _wrong_ corpse and folk’ll not take kindly to it. Your neighbors and kin will mount a hunting party of their own, and that’s usually when things go bad. Now I’m offering to help you avoid that mess by nipping it in the bud, so to speak.”

He should probably be more firm, but Dean finds himself holding back. Despite their difference of opinion, he likes Novak. Dean’s a stranger here, and yet Novak invited him in for tea without question. It was only once Dean mentioned his profession that the man's expression soured and his demeanor changed for the worse. Dean finds himself trying to meet Novak's hostility with hostility of his own, but it doesn't quite work out that way. Dean doesn't know what it is about this conversation that has him just a step behind, but he is.

It doesn't hurt that Novak is unfairly attractive.

“I can guarantee you,” Novak growls, and Dean forces himself to pay attention to his words instead of his cheekbones or his lips. “Not a man, woman, or child in this settlement will ask for your help in this matter. You’re wasting your time.”

Dean shrugs, playing with the edges of his hat so he won’t be able to stare at Novak. “I wouldn’t be so sure. I’m patient, I’ll wait it out.”

So he does. He stays in a small room above the tavern—the closest thing they have to an inn around these parts—and gets to know the townsfolk. Most of them have heard about the ghoul, but as Novak predicted, they don’t seem much concerned about it.

More surprising is just how _many_ graves had been desecrated. Some accounts make it sound as though there’s one a month, ranging in nearly twenty miles in all directions. Dean’s pretty sure there’s only a single ghoul at work, but he’s clearly been in the area for some time. The creature _lives_ here, somewhere in these very woods or farmland.

Still, no one worries.

And then Dean starts to notice other things. There’s the family on the ridge that Dean’s only ever seen at night. It’s not quite a full moon, but as it gets closer, a woman from the edge of town starts to get twitchy. The air goes cold whenever he steps into the shop to get provisions, but no one else minds or notices. And the tavern owner’s dog seems a little too smart for a mere pet.

There’s something very strange going on in this town.

He tries to find out more, but no one will talk. Every casual hint he makes about the possibility of supernatural creatures in town is met with disinterest. Dean’s encountered open hostility before, especially out west. This is different. This is… this is people walking on eggshells around him. People politely indulging him and waiting for him to move on.

So Dean turns to the only person around here who’s actually lost their temper with him. The only one who acts in any way, shape or form _normal._

Novak looks flustered when he sees Dean approaching. He rushes back to the house and calls out, “James! The Hunter- _James!_ ”

Dean doesn’t understand the urgency, nor who Novak’s calling, until an identical face appears on the porch.

Oh.

Twins.

Shit, there are _two_ men that unfairly gorgeous?

He shakes his head to dispel the thought and regain his focus.

“Mr. Novak and… Novak.” He nods to each of them. “Might I have a word?”

James, Dean soon finds out, is the brother Dean had met before. His expression is tight as he invites Dean inside to join them for lunch. Castiel is his brother, and as aggressive as James is, Castiel is quiet and passive. He looks like he’d rather flee than deal with Dean at all, but he stays put in his chair and nibbles at the bread and cheese his brother’s set out for them to eat.

“I told you,” James says simply. “No one is in need of your services here.”

“So it seems,” Dean agrees. “Strange, that. Especially since by my count there are no less than five supernatural beings inhabiting this settlement. I should think you all are very much in need of a Hunter.”

James looks taken aback. Castiel looks utterly miserable.

“What makes you think that?” James asks.

Dean lays out his evidence, naming villagers like Madison the werewolf and Lucky the skinwalker. The brothers listen quietly, not even once attempting to contradict Dean.

“So it looks to me,” Dean concludes, “that you live in a town of monsters. You all do, knowingly, and you don’t much care.”

Neither denies it. Instead they share an uneasy look before Castiel asks him, “Do you know who the ghoul is?”

At first he thinks it’s a jab. He does _not_ know, and pointing it out feels like an attack on his ability as a Hunter. But then it hits him all at once.

Castiel, despite looking like he could use a good meal, has taken no more than a few bites of the food before them.

“Oh.” Dean’s shoulders sag. “I didn’t realize—”

“What are you going to do now that you know?” James asks through grit teeth. Castiel stares at his hands, looking like he wish he didn’t exist.

Instead of answering, Dean leans forward. “I don’t understand… How did you come to this arrangement? Surely you can’t be brothers—?”

“I let him bite me, if that’s what you’re asking,” James snaps. He places a hand on Castiel’s thigh and squeezes. “It was the only way to protect him.”

“There was another Hunter in town,” Castiel whispers. “Many years ago. He wasn’t like you, not at all. He would not leave us be. He didn’t care that no one hired us, he tried to drive us out. I had no family to protect me, unlike the others here…” With wide eyes, he looks up at Dean. “Are you going to kill me now?”

Perhaps he should. He swore an oath to rid the world of monsters whenever he could.

… Except Castiel doesn’t seem a monster. He seems a scared man. A man who’s done no wrong, not truly. He’s feasted on corpses, as is his nature, but he’s attacked no one. And no one is angry at him for doing so. They _know_ there’s a ghoul living nearby and eating their dead, yet they wish him no ill will. What would killing Castiel accomplish?

Along with his oath to rid the world of monsters, Dean also vowed to protect the innocent. As strange as it might seem, Castiel appears to fall into that category.

“No,” Dean says. “I won’t kill you.”

Castiel’s relief is palpable, but Jimmy is unconvinced. “You’ve been here nearly a month, and just like that you’ll let this go? Forgive me, but it seems too easy.”

“What can I say? I got a soft spot for a pair of big blue eyes.” Castiel blushes at that and Dean resists the urge to wink. “No one’s hired me, no one’s upset… There’s no case here. I’ll head back east, and your town can rest easy knowing there’s one less Hunter that’s interested in you.”

“Actually…” Now that Dean’s given up on hunting him, Castiel seems much more confident. “If you wouldn’t mind staying a little longer, we _could_ use your services…”

A ghoul hiring a Hunter? Ain’t that a trip.

“Alright, shoot. I’m kinda curious what a ghoul might want to hire me for.”

“You’re not the only Hunter who’s come to the area. No one hires them, and they usually leave like you were going to.”

“But none of them have actually been able to identify the creatures living here,” James continues, seamlessly picking up where Castiel left off. They might not be twins in truth, but their years together have clearly led to them being close.

_How close?_

“Our concern,” Cas says, “is that if they _do_ come to town and _do_ figure out that Madison’s a werewolf or that I’m a ghoul, they won’t care if there’s a contract or not.”

“And they won’t care that none of _us_ care. They’ll see a monster and they’ll shoot first, ask questions later. Or not at all.”

“I don’t understand.” Dean licks his lips. He ignores the fact that both men track the movement. “Are you hiring me as a Hunter… to hunt other Hunters?”

“Of course not!”

“We would never ask that of you!”

“Then what _are_ you asking of me?”

“You came here tracking a ghoul, but it wasn’t me,” Castiel explains. “Other Hunters have come tracking monsters, but never the ones who actually live here. Those who live here follow our rules. Those who don’t live here don’t bother, and they jeopardize us all.”

“We want you to hunt _those_ monsters. The ones who put people like Castiel in danger. The ones who actually _hurt_ people.”

“... Are you offering me an actual job? Like I’d be sheriff of this lil’ neck of the woods?”

James shoots him a wry smile. “Something like that. I’m sure I could convince the others to pitch in and offer you a stipend.”

“And you can live here with us,” Castiel adds. “We have a spare room.”

Dean’s fairly certain this house is only big enough to have _two_ bedrooms. He files that information away for later when he can ponder just how close James and Castiel are.

“This is highly irregular…”

“Is it? There are monsters here for you to hunt, and we’re willing to pay you to do so.”

“We’re simply asking you to ignore specific monsters along the way.”

“... Are you okay with being called a monster?” Dean asks as he looks at Castiel.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and smiles sadly. “I am well aware of what I am. My kind can be quite dangerous.”

James silently watches the interaction, not daring interrupt. This more than anything else so far feels like a test.

“So can humans, yet we’re the ones who decided anything other is a monster. You don’t seem like much of a monster to me, Cas.” The nickname comes out unbidden, but Dean continues as though there’s nothing unusual about being so familiar with a near stranger. “And trust me, I’ve met my fair share of monsters. You aren’t one.”

Even with such a short acquaintance, Dean believes what he’s saying. He’s rarely shared words with the creatures he’s paid to hunt. None of them have wanted it and many seemed incapable of it. The idea of sharing tea and snacks with a ghoul would’ve been laughable but a few weeks ago. Now Dean is very much accepting of the possibility that he might _live_ with one.

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate that.” Castiel’s so genuinely appreciative

James coughs, interrupting the moment. Dean feels flustered, so out of his element for oh so many reasons, and appreciates that James is redirecting them back to the matter at hand.

“So what do you say, Dean? Will you be staying with us?”

He’s stayed in towns before. Never like this, but it’s not all that different from what he usually does when you get down to it. And beyond all that, he’s intrigued. He’s intrigued to get to know other non-humans and _talk_ to them. He’s intrigued by the possibility of being part of a community, even one that’s made up of misfits. Most of all, he’s intrigued by the twin pairs of blue eyes looking at him hopefully.

“Yes. Yes, I think I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> ~~i give it a month before dean falls into bed with them~~


End file.
